


Family

by Luinlothana



Category: Good Omens (TV), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Lucifer meets Adam, Trixie meets Adam, discovering parentage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 11:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25349995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luinlothana/pseuds/Luinlothana
Summary: In every relationship honesty is important. Too bad if it slips your mind to mention to your significant other that the world almost ended recently. In Lucifer's defence, as far as he was concerned, the whole business with the Antichrist was just a way of ensuring the demons stayed busy and didn't bother him. Now, it seems, it's time to face the music.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 42
Kudos: 414





	Family

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: In all likelihood, the parties owning the respective rights to the source material for this story can be identified rather easily and with some effort one might even eventually figure out in what way the authorship, the adaptation rights to the book and the comics and the estate of unlamented Sir Terry fit in together. As I preferred to focus on the story instead, I can only offer my assurance that I am in no way involved in the above and am writing the story for purely recreational purposes with no benefits expected.
> 
> A/N: When it comes to Good Omens, this story is compliant with the show. Not that I don’t love the book but according to the book continuity Adam would be an adult now.
> 
> Warning! You are entering unbetaed territory. Proceed with caution.

Family

"You have to do _something_ or he is going to land me with a desk job!" The fuming demon stormed into the room and started pacing.

"Maze?" Chloe blinked in a surprise. "Who are you talking about?"

"Keep up, Decker. The list of those who could try that and _not_ end up bleeding in a ditch is rather short. And you might be the only person he'd listen to."

"If I'm correctly assuming we are talking about Lucifer, you know very well that, more often than not, he wilfully misunderstands whatever I tell him."

The demon snorted.

"Not all of that is wilful, you know."

"And besides, ever since that failed uprising lead by Dromos, he spends over half of his time in Hell. When would he have time to think of forcing you into a career change?"

"Where do you think the desk job would be? He eventually figured out that after the Armageddon fiasco the head administration was in shambles and his absence started becoming noticeable."

Chloe froze, trying to tell herself she must have misheard.

"Hold on, Maze. What were you saying about Armageddon?"

"He never told you? Sit yourself comfortably, the story is hilarious. Especially the bit when the Antichrist threw a tantrum and refused to cooperate."

"The Antichrist?" Chloe asked with a forced calm, silently telling herself that perhaps it wasn't too early for a drink. "As in the son of Satan?"

Maze snorted. "I'm beginning to understand why he never told you."

"Tell me anyway?"

"Sure. What friends are for, right? And besides, if he wanted me to keep mum, he shouldn't have threatened me with that job."

III

Lucifer looked tired, Chloe noticed, as he sat at the bar, staring into space, a glass of whisky frozen halfway to his lips.

"Hi," she greeted slipping onto the stool next to him.

He managed to smile. "Detective! A pleasure to see you. Can I offer you something to drink?"

"You know what, I could use one, sure." She waited until he poured her a glass and settled back into his spot, rising his own drink to his lips. "So, how come I never heard we have kids the same age?"

It should probably be noted, should anyone ask later, that Lucifer would maintain, that he simply faced the Detective and addressed the question. And given that nobody would be brave enough to speculate that Lucifer, the Angel of Light, the King of Hell, the Ruler of Demons, actually choked on his drink and stared at the human addressing him with wide, slightly panicked eyes, it obviously couldn't have happened. The fact that there was a witness of such an event in the form of the aforementioned human is immaterial at this point.

"Lucifer?" Chloe asked with all the concern of a person suspecting that she might have accidentally given an immortal a stroke. "Are you all right?"

He drew in a breath.

" _Where_ exactly did you hear _that_?" he managed eventually.

"I've been talking to Maze. Adam is just a year older than Trixie, isn't he?"

"Right." Lucifer forced himself to relax a bit. "Just to clarify. You might have picked a slightly biased source."

"Meaning?"

"The last time I dropped on a brief visit to Earth, just to have some fun, as usual, there was this girl, who insisted that I got her pregnant. That was impossible, of course, but given that she was alone and barely in her twenties, I was marginally sympathetic and I could see why she would come up with the story. She wasn't intending to keep the baby anyway, so on the whole it seemed easier to just give her some money to take her comfortably through the pregnancy and give orders for my agent on Earth to make sure the kid got settled with some nice family when it was born."

"You left a _demon_ in charge of a child?"

"That sounds rather hypocritical from someone who, I know for a fact, regularly leaves Maze on the babysitting duty."

"And at the ripe age of eleven my daughter is already better with a knife than most of the people I put away. Also, we're talking about a _newborn_ here."

"No need to get yourself worked up, Detective. My field agent is probably the most level-headed demon you can find. Besides, by all accounts, the child was happy and healthy, last I heard of it."

"And how does that tie in with Maze telling me something about the Antichrist?"

"A slight case of miscommunication, really. I delegated overseeing the details to Beelzebub and she might have taken to understand that the child actually was mine. Given that the side effect was the demons getting all excited and busying themselves with that instead of bothering me, I wasn't about to disabuse them of the notion."

"Right. Quick question. How can you be sure the girl _wasn't_ telling the truth and the kid wasn't actually yours? I know you well enough to know you don't exactly believe in abstinence."

"Of course it wasn't mine. I can't get a human pregnant, Detective."

She lifted an eyebrow.

"Because of the angel thing?"

"I thought that would be obvious."

Chloe studied him for a second, waiting for him to realise what he just said. When he gave no indication that he did, she tried again, with a more blunt approach.

"Lucifer, does the name _Charlie_ ring any bells for you?"

He paled. The tumbler slid from his hand, spilling the liquid over the bar top. Given that he seemed speechless at the moment, Chloe decided to take initiative.

"I guess after you clean this up we should see about a trip to England, huh?"

III

"I'm still not certain why you want to bring your offspring along, Detective."

Chloe couldn't help but roll her eyes at the petulant tone. If she didn't mock in response, it was only because Lucifer actually seemed tense about the planned trip.

"She wanted to go to Britain ever since she read 'Harry Potter' and if it turns out you messed up as big as I suspect, she can give you a much better chance to connect with a tween kid. Plus, do you really want the Vatican City to be all she's seen of Europe?"

"You seriously didn't even take her on a bit of sightseeing in Italy?"

"If you recall, I wasn't exactly in the mood. Something about _someone_ revealing his true nature at the least appropriate moment."

"Right. Nothing to do but try to rectify your lamentable parenting by offering the spawn an alternative tourist experience."

"Says the guy who, by all accounts, had a kid and then forgot about him."

"You have to agree there were some extenuating circumstances."

"Keep telling yourself that."

III

It wasn't like Chloe had really any grounds to complain. Their first class flight went smoothly and after giving them a day in the Marriot to reorient themselves from the jetlag, Lucifer insisted on indulging them with doing the tourist thing. All the same, while she couldn't deny the pleasant vacation vibe that came from sightseeing and taking in the views from the London Eye, by the time when, to Trixie's delight, they somehow ended up spending half a day at Hamleys, it became rather obvious that Lucifer was stalling.

"Are you sure this is what we are supposed to be doing?" The fact that they _both_ gave her a scandalised, betrayed look absolutely wasn't amusing and she would be ready to deny it whenever it came up.

"But Mom!", Trixie protested only to get the support from Lucifer.

"I don't see why you are complaining, Detective. I was under the impression you _wanted_ your spawn to enjoy herself."

"Right. First of all, Trixie, you don't need to buy half of the store just because Lucifer is paying for it. And Lucifer? You might want to try acting like a responsible adult for a moment. When were you planning to do something about the reason we actually came here?"

"I gave my agent a call yesterday. He didn't pick up."

"And I don't suppose you left him a message to call you back?"

"I learned not to leave messages of any importance when I tried to tell you the truth about myself and you didn't even notice I was kidnapped. Quite discouraging, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, trying to guilt trip me now, are you? About not worrying too much about someone with a history of running off to Vegas?"

"Let's not focus on fine details, shall we? And speaking of places where one could find entertainment, what would you say to seeing what the West End theatres have to offer this afternoon?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Sure, why not?"

"I knew you'd see the light, Detective."

III

Coming from an acting background, Chloe had to admit that she was impressed with what she had seen during the afternoon show. As much as she had reservations about Lucifer's avoidance of the issue that actually brought them to England, in this particular instance she had to give it to him, it was shaping up to be a very pleasant time, as they stepped out of the theatre and strolled through Piccadilly, enjoying the late afternoon.

The streets of Soho seemed to be teeming with life at the moment and she let herself forget about what they needed to do, simply enjoying the moment. Which was why it seemed particularly ironic (though should she share that opinion with her companion, she would be offered a more direct explanation, involving less than complimentary views on his parent's sense of humour) that this had to be the time when she felt they stepped closer to something giving the slightly hair-rising, overozoned feeling that she learned to associate with the times Amenadiel let his power manifest for whatever reason.

She paused, looking around, then glancing at Lucifer in askance.

"Not exactly subtle, is it? If even you can tell something is off," he commented in lieu of any other explanation. "I suppose there is nothing to do but go in."

With that he led them to a charming corner bookshop.

III

Despite the popular opinion (or at least the opinion of certain demons with distinct snake-like qualities, whose opinion was the only one that mattered, most of the time), Aziraphale was not, in fact, a terrible fusser, thank you very much. That he tried to contemplate the potential problems ahead of time was, if anything, a sign of preparedness. Of course, that some scenarios one would have a hard time preparing for might have led him to worry from time to time (often) but that didn't mean it was better than not thinking about such things at all.

So if he somehow worried about more abstract scenarios like someone from Hell suddenly appearing on his doorstep, or more down to earth ones like a child coming into the shop and starting to carelessly look through his books, it was nobody's business but his own. In retrospect, he might even say that it was quite careless of him not to ever think that _both_ was also a viable option.

When the bell over the bookshop's door sounded, the angel looked up to see a young girl skip happily inside and curiously make her way to the shelves. He got up from where he had been comfortably sitting with some light reading ( _Mémoires_ by Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais) and took a few steps to prevent any misfortunes to his books, when two more people entered the shop.

Upon reflection, his mind might still have been partly on the book he was reading and partly dedicated to the absolute shock at who he was seeing, which could possibly explain his reaction.

"Samael," escaped his lips unbidden, as he stood frozen in spot, conflicted between wishing that Crowley was here (and wasn't he supposed to arrive any minute now?) and wishing him as far away as possible, for his own safety.

The only part of his mind that was still working at the moment, that he was trying to put to use figuring a way out of this situation, was stubbornly refusing to cooperate, too focused on the fact that his current _visitor_ actually had not changed much from the image of Archangel Samael that he still retained in his head, give or take the stubble and the tailored suit.

"Honestly, one would think a few _millennia_ would be enough to get people used to a change of name. It's Lucifer."

Well, just because the King of Hell suddenly decided to drop by, there was no reason to be impolite.

"Of course, terribly sorry, slipped my mind there for a second. What brings you here? H-heaven didn't complain about faulty hellfire, did they?" On the whole, Aziraphale was quite proud of himself with how confident he managed to sound.

"Not to my knowledge, surprising as it is that there actually is _something_ they _don't_ complain about. Why would they do it? The quality hasn't changed since Hell started to exist." Lucifer pointedly looked at the cold fireplace only to have a small flame burst into existence there, the warm reds dancing with the sulphuric blues.

Aziraphale took a small, instinctual step back, only to realise it very possibly contradicted the story about his supposed immunity. From the direction of the shelves he heard an enthusiastic exclamation of "Cool!" and suddenly realised that he managed to completely forget about the child that was also in the shop (which was no small feat, considering said child has actually taken a book off the shelf and was currently holding it, while approaching the people present). With desperation, he took another step trying to block the child's path.

That was when the bell sounded again, signifying another person entering.

III

Anthony J. Crowley had been having, until that point, a relatively pleasant, lazy day. He had slept in (mostly to have an excuse to listen to the angel tell him about wasting the day, in that particular tone of fond indignation that he had mastered through the years of their friendship), had started a few internet wars over celebrity photos (a fun enough activity that proved to be a surprisingly hard habit to break), had spent some time watering and intimidating his plants only to finally head to the bookstore with a case of wine he thought Aziraphale would appreciate.

His pleasant mood evaporated instantly when, upon (illegally) parking next to the bookshop, he felt a presence that he honestly hoped he never would have a chance to encounter again, together with the close proximity of hellfire. That alone, in connection with the shop, awoke nightmares that he was still trying to shake off. Not stopping to think about what he was doing (thinking about it wouldn't be very helpful, as any scenario he could think of sounded suspiciously close to suicide), he barged into the shop and in a few strides placed himself firmly between the angel and the hellfire, cheerfully roaring in the fireplace, as if trying its best to fit into a nice, Victorian winter scene. As soon as he did, he started to wonder if placing himself between Aziraphale and Lucifer wouldn't have been a better idea (even if he _was_ painfully aware that he would make as good a shield as a wet tissue might).

The King of Hell grinned delightedly at seeing him, which couldn't mean anything pleasant.

"Ah, Crowley, wonderful to see you again. I missed reading your reports. Particularly the one for the last year seems to be missing."

On reflection, the demon didn't actually know why he was surprised. Ordering your execution and _still_ expecting you to hand in an annual report sounded _exactly_ like something Hell would do. The only thing unusual about the scenario would be the king coming to inquire about it in person.

"I didn't know those went that high up," he responded bravely, knowing full well how unpleasant it was to run afoul Hell's bureaucracy and trying to deflect the topic.

"I was hoping to see what you had to say about the Antichrist, so I specifically asked for it recently," Lucifer clarified with a deceptive air of casual conversation that set Crowley's nerves on edge.

Just then, the child that apparently was a spectator to the entire exchange (not that Crowley noticed previously, with his whole world shrinking to Aziraphale, Lucifer and hellfire in one enclosed space), enthusiastically approached the woman in the shop (apparently there was a woman as well, Crowley discovered) and _the Devil himself_ with a book in her hand. There was something vaguely fascinating about the scene, in a train-wreck-about-to-happen kind of way.

"Look! It's a first edition of _The Water Babies_!" the girl announced enthusiastically to a slight wince of Aziraphale, who either realised the danger the child was in or adapted to the situation at hand enough to register the child's hands on a first edition book.

Then came something Crowley absolutely did _not_ expect. Lucifer looked down to peruse the first page of the book in question (while in the background the woman was whispering to the girl something about not simply taking valuable books from shelves without asking, earning, despite the circumstances, a grateful look from the angel).

"Indeed it is, spawn. One could question what a work by such a dedicated racist is doing in a shop owned by an _angel._ "

There was a distinct teasing in that tone, with no actual malice in sight. The last time he heard that tone, Crowley suddenly realised, it was while discussing the outlines for some stars.

"Actually, Kingsley was a rather pleasant fellow and a great proponent of social christianity. We've spent quite some time discussing the need to curtail child labour. That he might have echoed some absurd opinions, unfortunately prevalent at that time, shouldn't be grounds to dismiss his heritage entirely."

If there was a table to kick Aziraphale under, Crowley would. While he knew full well there was nothing the angel found more irresistible than conversing about books, he thought having his best friend as an example of the possible consequences of accidentally having a few too many pleasant talks with Lucifer, would give him a pause.

"You know, I _might_ have met him during the Great Exhibition. Seemed rather uptight to me, though he might have been trying to give the Cambridge Professor vibe and I was never overly fond of the clergy."

The woman at his side snorted and Lucifer sent her a rather fond look. Then he extended that look to the child as well. A horrible idea started growing in Crowley's mind. Was it possible that there was actually a _backup_ child? One that Lucifer decided to rise himself to avoid any mistakes? The age seemed similar and Lucifer came here asking about Adam. Not to mention the entire situation seemed much too odd not to be a trick of some sort.

"Oh, he might have seemed like that at first but- Crowley, are you quite all right, dear?" apparently the angel _finally_ stopped being oblivious to everything. He would thank Satan for that if _he_ wasn't the one engaging the angel in a conversation in the first place.

"Why wouldn't I be? It's not like there is anything extraordinary about this situation, is there?" the demon was holding tight to panic, doing his best to appear as casual as possible. He wasn't sure he was succeeding.

"You don't have to worry, this hardly is an official visit," Lucifer assured him with the air of amusement that the demon sadly didn't share at the moment. "Even if I _would_ love to know what happened to your report."

"Nobody said they were still expecting it after they failed to execute me," slipped out of his mouth practically without any involvement of his will.

The way fire appeared quite literally in Lucifer's eyes wasn't particularly reassuring, even if his tone never stepped up from a polite enquiry.

"Who would the 'they' in question be?"

"Beelzebub, mostly." Crowley figured he had nothing to lose at this point.

" _Beelzebub_ must have forgotten to mention that before going on to explore _new career opportunities_ in the Lower Pits." Lucifer stated icily with a dangerous note in his voice. "Mazikeen is currently considering taking over the position as the head of Hell's administration.."

"She won't be taking it," the human at Lucifer's side supplied with a surprising dose of confidence.

"She might still accept it."

"If I recall, her exact answer was that she would sooner stab you in your sleep with a blessed blade."

"That's her usual answer to everything. I still intend to give her a month to think it over." Lucifer answered undeterred before looking back to Crowley. "Now, since there apparently is no report to be read, maybe you could simply fill me in regarding some details about the boy?"

Before the demon had any chance to respond, Aziraphale spoke to his side, his infallible politeness apparently acting up.

"I suppose I had better close up then. No point drawing the attention of humans, present company excluded of course." The angel paused, his expression turning to outright horrified. "Oh dear, how embarrassing. We were never properly introduced, were we?"

The woman laughed, extending her hand. "I guess not. Chloe Decker. And that's my daughter Trixie."

"Delighted to meet you, madam. I am Aziraphale and this is Crowley my- ahh, but I suppose you have gathered as much by now, haven't you? Perhaps you'd all like to step into the back room? It's much more comfortable there. I'll make us some tea, won't be a tick."

At least, Crowley supposed, it made him look good in front of his (apparently not as former as he'd like) boss, that he was getting urges to strangle an angel.

III

Odd as it may sound, sitting down for tea proved to be a surprisingly good idea. The very concept that they were actually sitting in Aziraphale's backroom with the King of Hell, having a polite discussion over tea and buttered raisin scones, was just about absurd enough that Crowley couldn't panic properly because some part of his mind insisted that he was seeing things and should sober up instead.

It didn't help the matters that Lucifer was listening to the whole story as if he heard nothing of it. If anything, it appeared that _the human_ sitting with them heard more of it than the Devil himself had, but Crowley was still gathering up the courage to verify whether his assumption about the _human_ part was actually correct.

Sometime along the way, it had been silently decided that it was Aziraphale who was leading the main narrative, as Crowley seemed to be tripping over his words slightly, trying to avoid accidentally saying something that could have dire consequences.

"-at which point Adam decided that he had no intention to end the world. I suppose you know what happened after that."

"And why _would_ I know that?" there was a bite in Lucifer's tone.

"Wasn't that when you appeared, after Gabriel and Beelzebub told Adam you'd deal with him?"

"Again, why would I do that? I was busy in California at the time. And frankly, if there was _ever_ anything both _Beelzebub and Gabriel_ thought a good idea, it'd be safe to assume avoiding it was the best possible course of action. If anything, the kid should be praised. The last time I took any action involving the boy was ordering for him to be placed with a nice family."

"But if it wasn't _you_ there in the airfield then who-"

A horrifying idea suddenly appeared in Crowley's head, as he thought back to the theatrics he had been known to engage in back in the day.

"Angel? Just theoretically, what do you suppose would happen if you told a kid able to shape the world with a thought, and for most part do so subconsciously, that his father, Satan, is coming to tell him off?"

Aziraphale went silent for a moment, his eyes widening slightly.

"I would imagine that it would be conceivable that in such case he might visualise someone looking as his interpretation of the image of Satan, only to use it as a-" he glanced at his guest with a certain dose of nervousness "a stick figure of sorts to rebel against the unfair treatment."

The woman next to them started laughing all of the sudden. The demon and the angel both looked at her with surprise. When she was done, she addressed the Devil sitting next to her, mirth still apparent in her voice.

"You know, Lucifer, the powers might have been a coincidence. Convincing Hell could be a happy side effect. But going to such lengths just to rebel against his father? He's definitely your kid."

Crowley suddenly realised that they were both waiting with baited breath, expecting something gruesome to happen to the human. No such event occurred. What _did_ happen was Lucifer responding with rolling his eyes, never losing his smile.

"At least _I_ had a good reason to act up."

"Let's be honest, so did he if he was convinced he was about to be scolded for _not ending the world._ "

"Ah, yes, there is that. I guess I should give the boy something as a compensation."

"He was actually saving up for a new bike," Crowley heard Aziraphale offer helpfully at his side and felt a strong urge to groan.

III

It wasn't until later, after their unexpected guests left (with Crowley stomping out the fire in the hearth as soon as the door closed behind them), the girl holding tightly to her newly obtained, first-edition book (which, to Crowley's astonishment, Aziraphale actually _sold,_ as a gesture of good will, only later explaining that he had three of those and the child thankfully picked the dog-eared one), that what had just occurred fully sank in for them.

It didn't hurt that from what they learned over tea after running out of Adam-related topics, it seemed that _their_ side might actually stand a chance, as they at least had some completely unexpected support from someone who was the only divine being in existence with any experience in creating his own side. Which, well, was overwhelming for a start, but also not bad news.

"Do you suppose it would be terribly inappropriate to say he actually still seems nicer than Gabriel? Or Michael for that matter."

Crowley barked out a short laugh.

"Probably better if you don't go saying things like that aloud, angel. But why do you think I ended up with his crowd? _Some_ of us were there for the company, not ideology."

III

Chloe looked carefully at Lucifer's face as he was driving their rented car through the Oxfordshire countryside. For the first time since she'd met him, he appeared to be driving under the speed limit and watching the road.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were actually nervous."

"What possible reason would I have for that, Detective?" Chloe distantly noted that the fact that he didn't deny it, was as good as an outright confession. Unfortunately for Lucifer, it didn't take her long to figure out that with his absolute honesty policy, deflection was just a way of avoiding the truth.

"Oh, I don't know. Who _hasn't_ tried talking to a kid they failed to acknowledge for over a decade?"

"If you were under impression that you were being helpful, Detective, I might need to rid you of that misguided idea."

"Aziraphale said he's a bright kid. I'm sure he'll understand."

"Offering platitudes won't get you far either."

"Seriously, how bad could it possibly be?"

"You'll find I'm not exactly the person who can answer such question with any amount of reassurance."

She gave up after that attempt, busying herself with studying at the map of Tadfield, determined not to take the wrong turn Crowley was for some reason adamant to warn them about.

III

They arrived in Tadfield in time for a pub lunch (not having taken any wrong turns, apparently), during which she _finally_ managed to get Lucifer to discuss how he intended to approach the boy. After shooting down his initial idea of simply knocking on the door and asking to talk to their child (which was, incidentally, interspersed with a lot of jabs at someone learning absolutely nothing from the time working with the police), they eventually settled on seeing if they could find Adam outside and see if he would be willing to spare a moment to talk, with Trixie enthusiastically volunteering to provide them with an excuse.

Finding Adam, as it turned out, wasn't particularly hard. It was less of a case of needing to employ investigative skills and more of spotting a group of children discussing something by a tire swing and seeing which one the accompanying miniature hellhound responded to.

They observed the group for a moment, with Chloe amusing herself by trying to look for similarities. The slightly curling hair definitely counted as one. The apparent enthusiasm about whatever the topic was, seemed oddly familiar as well. She noticed that Lucifer was also watching the entire scene, with an inscrutable expression on his face.

At that point, without waiting for a prompt, Trixie marched up to the group.

"I like your dog," she informed Adam in lieu of greeting. "I hope my mom would let me have one like that. I'm Trixie."

The boy responded with a smile. "Hi! I'm Adam and these are Brian, Wensleydale and Pepper. Are you a friend of Anathema's? She's a Yank as well."

"Sorry, I don't know her. I'm here with my mom and her boyfriend. She indicated with her head. Would you like to come meet them?"

"Sure. Are you staying in Tadfield? You could come play with our gang if you are. We'd show you our secret base."

"Would it still be secret if you show me?"

"Of course. It's a _secret_ base, after all. There would still be people who _don't_ know where it is, right?"

"I guess so."

III

On some level, while he had no idea how the introduction would play out, Lucifer still expected there would need to _be_ an introduction of some sort. Which was why he was mildly surprised that, when they were approached by the _entire group_ of human children, Adam simply looked him straight in the eye to announce "You are _still_ not my dad."

"Yes, with the parental example I've received, you should probably be glad for it. But the fact that you can still tell _who_ I am is a pretty good indicator that you can't simply deny your parentage and go on your merry way."

"I'm not going to end the world."

"Excellent, given that I'm rather fond of it myself."

"But those two said you wanted me to."

"Beelzebub is already in the process of learning from that mistake. And while I'd love to be able to say Gabriel was dropped on his head when he was young, he doesn't even have that excuse for being an idiot."

"I won't let you take me away from my parents."

"From what I heard, they've done nothing to warrant taking you away from them, so why would I do that? You seem happy enough where you are."

"So why are you here then?"

"I thought we might try to get to know each other, now that you know about who you are. Plus Beatrice and her mother seemed eager to meet you."

"Beatrice?" Adam seemed confused for a second.

"It's _Trixie_ " the child in question corrected emphatically while the girl from the gang offered her some reassurances, mentioning something about Pippin Galadriel and the right to self-express through a name.

"So is she like my step-sister or something?"

Lucifer heard Chloe holding her breath next to him.

"As close as, I suppose," he agreed cheerfully, glancing at the detective to gauge her reaction. For the moment she didn't seem to be showing any. At all. Even if the blank expression did seem to be accompanied with some uncommonly shallow breathing.

"Does that mean she can go play with us at our secret base?"

He waited for a moment to see a minuscule shrug from Chloe.

"Naturally. If you need us, we'll both have our mobiles on."

"We could see into staying for a few days in the bed and breakfast here in town," Chloe suggested emphatically, apparently having recovered from his earlier casual statement. "You know, in case the two of you wanted to have some time to talk."

"Excellent idea, Detective."

III

They did, indeed, end up staying in Tadfield for a few days. It wasn't long, due to the time constraints (Hell wasn't going to run itself and people didn't suddenly stop dying in Los Angeles, though, on reflection, that was probably for the better, given what the alternatives would imply) but it was enough to lay some groundwork for a connection.

They left Tadfield with a promise of a return visit (to achieve which Lucifer actually _did_ knock on the door of the Youngs asking them to agree to an absolute stranger flying their son halfway across the world with only his budding friendship with Trixie as an excuse. It worked, but only because with his persuasive skills he could probably convince fish to live in a desert. Chloe dearly hoped Adam wouldn't learn that trick as a teenager, for his parents' sake.) and having exchanged contact details in order to stay in touch. Also, with the input from the Them, Trixie already had a pretty solid outline for the government of Mars, with the agreement to iron out the details the next time they come for a visit, but that is neither here nor there.

And if Lucifer saved a photo of Adam and Trixie plotting together as a wallpaper on his mobile, that was his private business. It wasn't like there would be anyone either brave or foolish enough to try to take his phone.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews will be appreciated.
> 
> A/N: While I usually prefer to work with a beta I didn’t manage to find one for this story. If you found any glaring mistakes in the story I’d be grateful if you let me know about them.


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